There are at least ten things we should never say to kids.
I know this because I've spent most of my adult life creating learning environments and resources for adolescents and the people who care for them — teachers, youth workers and parents.
Adults say lots of things to kids that don't really help either of them. OK, that's not exactly true-some things help adults get things done right now; but the near-term benefit quickly turns to a long-term liability.
I've come to believe a lot of parenting is thinly veiled hazing. You know, hazing — where the strong (or privileged) humiliate the weak (or recently arrived) as part of initiating them into a desirable society. Take your own survey: I bet you'll find most kids never feel much stupider or more tongue-tied than when backed into a corner by an angry adult demanding to know Thing Two: What Were You Thinking!
If kids nag long enough almost anyone will crack and utter the phrase they swore they would never say... BECAUSE I SAID SO! Why, after 14 generations of life together as North Americans, has no one stepped up to say, "I have an answer that's better than "Because I said so!" Well . . . the wait is over.
All things considered, I think one of the worst things you can tell a little girl is how pretty she is. Why? Because telling her she's pretty is a useful compliment the way Krispy Kreme is a food product. Tasty? Sure, if you think so. Nutritious? An important part of a balanced diet? Are you kidding?
Thing Five unpacks the (apparently) heretical notion that telling kids we're proud of them is a mistake. Go ahead; roll your eyes. But hear me out. This chapter is also the reason Ten Things We Should Never Say To Kids is free.
You can do ANYTHING you set your mind to? Come on, who are we kidding. I hate give away the punchline before you've had a chance to read Thing Six. So I'll only give away half: "If you think you can, you might..."
The language of expertise is, Let me tell you something. The language of exploring is, Let me ask you something. I think we fail kids as teachers if we don't respect them as learners.
Who said the only way to fold towels is the way your mother folded them, which is the way her mother and her mother's mother folded towels for as long as anybody can remember? When a kid hears the words, "That's not how you do it," she thinks, "No; that's not how YOU do it," and the battle of wills is on. But to what end?
Adults who try to bluff children into submission really haven't thought through the whole threat thing in general. By the time you resort to threats (especially if everyone knows you're bluffing) you've turned parenting into a zero sum game. And you've already lost.
"I give up" has a permanent ring to it that shocks and terrifies children. Giving up sounds like abandonment, like the end of hope, like the death of the future. If your child believes you've given up on him, there's a scary chance he'll give up too.
Of course you love your child; Of Course! Nobody questions that. The question is: "If you've come to believe you're doing some things that drive your kid nuts, can you find what it takes to stop doing those things? The easy answer is, "Of course; I'd do anything for my kid." The hard, realistic answer was in Thing Six: If you think you can, you might. If you think you can't, you won't.
There are at least ten things we should never say to kids.